


The Chris & Jill Chronicles

by ViperinePoem



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Character Interpretation, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Gap Filler, Grief/Mourning, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 03:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29325843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViperinePoem/pseuds/ViperinePoem
Summary: The worst thing about moving to Raccoon City was that the war on bioterrorism had found them and sunk its claws deep into their lives. The best part about moving to Raccoon City was that they had found each other.
Relationships: Chris Redfield/Jill Valentine
Comments: 4
Kudos: 8





	The Chris & Jill Chronicles

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, everyone!
> 
> So, this is my first Resident Evil fic EVER! There's going to be a lot of familiar beats here, but some changes as well. Thanks to everyone who is taking the time to read this, and I hope you guys like it. 
> 
> I want to shoutout KatoPhoenix for all of her support, helping me set up an account here and looking at what I've written. It means the world!

> **Chapter One:**
> 
> **Out of the Blue**
> 
> * * *

**The call came for Chris Redfield while he was getting ready for work.**

It caught him in the middle of his "morning routine", which involved him slapping his alarm clock quiet, rolling out of bed, and making a beeline to the small, cramped washroom overrun with feminine toiletries. The bathroom was too small for everything to fit, and he could never turn without knocking over one of his sister's things, whether it be the hair dryer always hanging precariously at the edge of the sink or the bath bottles crowded together at the edge of the bathtub. Of course, he'd talked to her about being neater, had even felt himself morphing into his parents as he lectured her about the importance of picking up after herself, but Chris had been forced to accept a cold truth very quickly: his sister was a teenager, like he'd been not so long ago, and unless her life depended on it, everything he said to her went in one ear and out the other. 

Staring at his reflection, Chris took in his disheveled brown hair and rumpled green tank top. Tired blue eyes the color of slate stared back at him while he brushed his teeth with one hand and rubbed sleep from his eye with the other. It was his favorite time of the day because it was the only time his life had any quiet, so the telephone cutting into that time startled him into a state of alertness that was usually offered by his first cup of coffee. Chris quickly spit in the sink, cupping his hand under the stream of cold water to rinse the toothpaste out of his mouth. He moved quick, barely aware of his hand reaching out and grabbing the mint green hand towel off the rack. He dried his hands quickly as he approached the living room, jumping over the running shoes Claire had left in the middle of the living room floor, banging his shin on the coffee table in the process. He huffed. 

"Shit...I told her..." he grumbled. The ringing of the phone cut off anything else he had to say. He grabbed the phone off the charger, twisting and falling heavily onto the weathered brown sofa that had seen better days but seen himself and his sister through the worst of times. "Redfield," he panted, reaching down to rub the pain out of his shin through the navy and grey checkered pajama pants he wore. 

"Chris, buddy! How's it hanging?"

Confused, Chris blinked. It took a moment for his "morning fog" to clear before the heavens parted and he could put a face to a voice. "Barry?"

"Yeah, man!"

"Hey!" Chris made himself comfortable on the couch with a grin. "It's been a while."

It wasn't every day that Chris had a chance to hear from his old friend Barry Burton; in fact, when Chris stopped to think about it, he realized that he hadn't heard from Barry since Chris had retired from the Air Force. The lack of communication hadn't been due to anything personal or any bad blood; instead, it had everything to do with life pulling two friends in opposing directions. Chris was much younger than Barry, twenty-three years old, and he was playing the difficult role of a working single parent to a rebellious but brilliant teenager, while Barry was balancing a career and a family that was bigger than what Chris had. Chris was aware that those things kept them busier than they wanted to admit. 

"It's been too long, brother. Am I calling at a bad time?"

"Nah, man. I just got up. I've gotta work later." 

"What's a man like Chris Redfield doing these days?"

"Security." The answer hung awkwardly between them. Chris wondered if he should say anything more, but Barry changed the subject. 

"How's Claire doing?"

"Claire's Claire. Just wait until your girls hit the teen years. It's a blast," Chris drawled with a roll of his eyes. "I kid. She's good. She's graduating this weekend, and I couldn't be prouder." 

"Does she have plans?"

"U-Chicago in the fall. They offered her a full ride scholarship, which is great, because I wasn't sure how I was gonna pull that one off..." Chris rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. 

"That's incredible, Chris. You should be proud. You've done great."

"Nah. I don't get the credit here. Mom and Dad did all the heavy lifting." Chris stood, rounding the coffee table, coming to a stop at the window overlooking the apartment's parking lot. It was an overcast day, with no sun or rain, just a pewter sky as far as his eyes could see. He ignored the pang in his chest, a side effect that came with talking about his parents. There was no sign of Claire's motorcycle outside, the graduation present he'd spent years saving for. 

Chris cleared his throat. "How are Kathy and the girls?"

"Good. We, uh, made a huge change. I left the Air Force."

"No kidding." Chris couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. That was _huge_ news. When he'd joined the Air Force at eighteen, fresh out of high school, Barry had already been there for years. Chris and Claire liked to joke that he'd grown roots, that he couldn't leave the base even if he'd wanted to. "When did that happen?"

"A few weeks after you left." 

"What happened?"

"Nothing. Well, nothing like what happened with you, anyway. I just got an offer to do something different for better money, and it was feeling like the right time to make some changes." There was a pause. Chris didn't know how to respond. "That's actually why I'm calling, Chris. The guys here asked me to give you a ring."

"The guys?"

"I'm living in Raccoon City these days. You ever heard of it?"

"Can't say I have."

"It's in Missouri. It's a nice little town. The big thing here is the Umbrella Corporation has a big lab. Anyway, just after you left, a guy named Albert Wesker showed up at the base. He works for the police department here in RC, and he told me he's putting together this new unit within the police department, and he asked me to be a part of it." 

"So you traded in airplanes for donuts? I can't say that's a bad deal. What do 'the guys' want with me?"

"I'm getting to that, young grasshopper." Chris snorted. "Wesker is setting up this unit within the RPD called the Special Tactics and Rescue Service..."

"STARS?" Chris blurted. 

"Yeah, I know. Clever, right?"

"I guess." Barry laughed. 

"Never change, Chris. Anyway, Albert's trying to fill up the team with the best of the best, so I told him about you, how you smoked everyone on the base with your marksmanship, and he asked me to give you a shout to see if you'd be willing to come down to RC for an interview."

"I don't know, Barry..." Chris was sure that his friend was surprised by Chris's apprehension, but it was a big offer to consider. His mind was already racing with all the things he'd have to do if he were to accept. He'd have to give notice at work. Missouri was a six hour drive from where he lived, so he was going to have to find a place to live before he packed all of his belongings -- which wasn't much -- into a U-Haul, because commuting was going to be out of the question. "Is there a time limit on this? I mean, if I said yes to this, I could probably start in the fall when Claire moves into her dorm, but I can't do anything until then." 

"I'll talk to Albert. I don't see why it would be an issue. Arrangements would have to be made to get you settled, so nothing's going to be right away. But talk to Claire, just in case. I think you belong here, Chris. You'd be a hell of a fit for this team, and the pay is going to be miles above what you're making right now, with benefits. It's a good gig here." 

Chris sighed. He knew Barry was right; this was a great opportunity for him, and the idea of having benefits and financial breathing room made the deal feel a lot sweeter. Chris ran his hand through his hair; he was due for a cut, and he supposed a job interview was as good a time as any to go out and get one. "I'll talk to her. I'll call you back tomorrow when I wake up."

"Sounds like a plan, brother."

"I wish I could talk longer, but I still need to eat breakfast and get ready for work." In a few hours, he'd be in the middle of a crowded bar, throwing elbows at a punk concert to throw out drunk troublemakers. "What's your new number?" Chris grabbed a pen and jotted down Barry's Raccoon City phone number on the notepad by the phone charger. 

"It's good talking to you, Chris. Tell Claire congratulations, and you give her a big hug for me."

"For sure, Barry. Thanks for calling." The men said their goodbyes and Chris hung up the phone. He leaned back on the couch, looking up at the ceiling, his mind racing. The idea of packing up everything he owned to move to a whole new city in a brand new state was both exciting and scary. Chris weighed the pros and cons, but he knew that everything he considered a pro were for reasons that were completely selfish -- better money, reliable work, benefits, everything he'd lost when he'd left the Air Force. He only had one big con, and to him, it was the most important -- Claire. 

It had been a long, shaky couple years since he'd taken custody of his sister following the sudden, simultaneous deaths of their parents, and in that time he'd done everything in his power to make things work. It hadn't been easy, but his father taught him early on in his life to never be afraid of hard work. Some days, Claire made him work extra hard, but he knew the alternative would be losing her to the foster care system, so he grit his teeth and kept pushing. He tried to be everything they had been for him, and he hoped for Claire's sake that he was doing a good job. 

He knew this new job could give them both a better life. He'd be able to afford to send Claire money while she was at school to help out. He'd be able to start saving for rainy days again, instead of living paycheck to paycheck. Barry was throwing him a lifeline and he knew it, but it still didn't keep him from feeling selfish for wanting to accept it. 

"Honey, I'm home!"

Chris found himself yanked back to reality at the sound of Claire Redfield's voice bouncing off the walls of the apartment. She came around the corner, dressed in blue jeans and a band T-shirt underneath the Made In Heaven leather jacket he'd given her as a Sweet Sixteen gift, her ponytail swinging from side to side with every step. A black backpack held together mostly by safety pins hung over her left shoulder. Chris had been offering to buy her a new backpack for months, but Claire insisted on keeping it. It was one of the last things their mother had bought for Claire, so he didn't push the issue. They were both still finding little ways to cope with the unimaginable. 

Six years younger than her brother, Claire had his blue eyes and stubborn but compassionate nature, and that was where their similarities came to an end. Chris would never admit it to anyone, but Claire found him to be the most black and white person she'd ever met, refusing to accept that sometimes life was shaded in grey. She supposed he had to think that way because of all the pressure he was under, pressure that he never shared with her. She worried about him constantly, but they could never seem to find a way to talk to each other about their grief. Instead, the Redfield siblings compartmentalized everything and kept going about their life, only now Claire had to listen to her brother, who became a mother and father in an instant. 

Claire dropped her backpack on the floor beside her shoes. She was surprised to see him sitting on the couch in his pajamas; normally when she came home, he was already dressed and had one foot out the door on the way to work. Her eyes narrowed. "Is everything okay? You aren't sick, are you?" Claire made a cross with her fingers. "You'd better not get me sick before grad, Chris, or I swear to God..."

"I'm fine," Chris insisted. "Aside from the gigantic bruise I'm going to have on my leg from you leaving your shit in the middle of the floor again. I almost went through the coffee table this time, by the way."

"Walk much?"

"I just read about it, Claire. Could you, I don't know, put them in the shoe rack?"

"Sorry. I left them there thinking I'd remember to put them in my gym bag, and I still forgot." Claire kicked off her shoes, leaving them with the other ones, and rounded the coffee table, sitting down on the couch beside her brother. "What's going on? You're never usually in your pajamas when I get home."

"I just got off the phone with Barry. He said congrats on graduating early."

"Aw. How's he doing?"

"Good. He left the Air Force."

"No shit." Chris shot Claire a look of reproach, but she wasn't paying it any mind. She put her feet up on the coffee table beside his. "I seriously thought he was going to die there."

"So did I," Chris admitted. 

"What made him leave?"

"He moved to Raccoon City. It's in Missouri."

"Cool name."

"He offered me a job out there." 

"A job? Seriously?" Chris nodded. "What kind of job?"

"Sounds like I'd be part of a tactical unit. Kind of like SWAT, I'm guessing, but they're calling it STARS."

"STARS?" Claire's laugh resembled a bark. "I love it. My brother, the Super STAR." 

"Don't." Claire could see the sparkle of amusement in her brother's eyes, and she knew that he wasn't offended; hell, she was pretty sure he thought the name was ridiculous, too. 

"Are you gonna take it?"

"I don't know," he admitted with a sigh. "We agreed I'm going to sleep on it."

"Sleep on what? You have to take this." Chris looked at her. 

"It's not that easy, Claire. I have things I have to think about." She nodded. He didn't have to say it; she knew that his reluctance had everything to do with her. She looked down at her hands and took a moment to mentally steady herself before she spoke. 

"Look, Chris, I know things have been tough since Mom and Dad died. I know things have been really hard for me, and I know that's nothing compared to what it's been like for you..."

"Claire..."

"You've sacrificed everything for me. You changed your whole life for me. You've given up so much for me, and I know you think I don't appreciate that sometimes, but I do."

"I know you do, Claire..."

"But I'm graduating. I'm going to be going to college. I'm going to be living on campus, and you're going to have all this time to yourself. So why not give it a try?" She nudged him. "Go and be a Super STAR."

"It's just STARS, Claire. Jesus." He clapped a hand over his face and resisted the urge to laugh. 

"You'll be the best one on the team." 

"You think so?"

"I know so. Besides...it gives me an excuse to take road trips on the bike to see you."

"It's good money. I'll be able to send you some money to help out." 

Claire's lips pursed. Leaning forward, she wrapped her arms around her brother's neck and hugged him tightly. "A whole new opportunity, and _that's_ what you're thinking about? That's why you're the best brother I'll ever have."

"I'm the _only_ brother you'll ever have," he reminded her. "Now, I _really_ need to get ready. There's money for pizza on the fridge for you and your friends tonight." 

"Aw, Chris, you really think of everything. You know what that makes you?"

"Don't say it, Claire." Chris rolled his eyes. 

"A Super STAR!" Claire erupted into a fit of giggles on the couch. In response, Chris shut his bedroom door behind him.

It was going to be a long summer. 


End file.
